


Tales of Alchemy

by melanoms



Series: Alchemy & Magic [2]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22644055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanoms/pseuds/melanoms
Summary: A series of one shots following the events of The Alchemist's Daughter.Chapter One: Stephen's Heart (Stephen & Reader)Stephen tells you he’s ready for you to look at his hands. The question remains: can you heal him?Chapter Two: Bears, Beets, I Don't Like MushroomsLoki learns something new about you during dinner at the Sanctum.Chapter Three: Loki's PrizeYou offer Loki a gift to thank him for his support all those months ago. He decides to say "you're welcome" in the way that only the God of Mischief can truly do justice for.Chapter Four: Seduction 101Movie night with Loki and Steve. What could go wrong?Chapter Five: I'm Not Your HealerLoki isn't pleased with how Stephen treats your generosity. So you teach him the true meaning of "healer."
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Alchemy & Magic [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628884
Kudos: 42





	1. Stephen's Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen tells you he’s ready for you to look at his hands. The question remains: can you heal him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have a chronic illness, pain, or have ever felt at war with your body, please tread gently with yourself. This could be triggering for you. Also, I have no medical knowledge of what nerve damage is like. Everything is written for creative purposes only.

Stephen was nervous that day. Undeniably nervous. 

He anxiously paced around the Sanctum entryway. The typically stoic and composed sorcerer was unsure of what to do with his excess nerves. 

You would be there in 10 minutes. 10 whole minutes.

_Was he really ready? Would it even work? Was it worth getting his hopes up again?_

Before he could continue his mental flagellation, you beamed yourself into the Sanctum.

“Hey,” you greeted him softly.

“Hey,” he said trying to hide his nerves. 

“I figured you’d be nervous. So I came a bit early. Less time to overthink,” you explained your timing.

_You knew him. You knew him well. He could trust you. Right?_

He let out a nervous laugh to answer, “You got me.”

“Let’s sit?” you asked. 

He nodded and led you to the seating area.

—-

“Okay, I want you to take a deep breath,” you asked. 

Failing to follow your instruction, he took a shallow breath; unable to breathe as deeply through his anxiety.

“You are totally in charge here. I don’t do anything that you aren’t comfortable with or ready for,” you told him softly. 

He nodded to confirm that he understood. 

“This won’t hurt at all. But I first have to get a feel to understand the damage. Then we’ll be able to see what I can do. Okay?” you said. You wanted to make him as comfortable as possible. This was new territory for both of you.

“Got it,” he said. He tried to put on a brave face. But after much practice, you could easily see through his mask.

“You’re going to do great,” you reassured. You gently placed a hand on his knee. Looking him in the eye, you reminded him, “You’re safe. You’re safe with me. You’re safe with yourself. Remind yourself of that whenever you need to.”

You offered up your palms to let him come to you. He gingerly placed his hands over yours. Upon physical contact, Stephen’s heart started to race. He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea anymore.

_He shouldn’t bother. This isn’t worth it. He was wasting both of your time. Too damaged beyond repair._

He tried to steady his breathing and remembered what you told him. Usually a man of great meditation and focus, Stephen clung to your words like a lifeline.

_I’m safe. I’m safe here. I’m safe with her. I’m safe._

He tried to look at your face. He wanted the comfort of knowing you were there. Not just physically. But really _there_ with him. 

However, he was afraid to see your reaction to his scars; to his brokenness. He couldn’t stand to think your face could reject him even if your words didn’t. Instead, he settled for staring at his lap.

Your hands emitted your gentle golden glow as you felt the current state of his. Your heart ached for him as you felt a tangled mess of nerves, muscles, and fibers. Not unlike his medical career, many of them clipped off too soon without any finality. His muscles contorted to compensate where they could; overreaching their intended places and purpose. 

But the truth remained. His hands, in fact, did heal. They _were_ healed.

They healed best they could with the resources they had. But still, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for him.

The silence was agonizing for Stephen. He wanted to know what you felt. _But he didn’t_. But he did. Finally, he decided that knowledge is better than ignorance; as with all things.

“What do you feel?” he asked with a slight waver in his voice.

_Oh, Stephen._

“Your body did it’s best. It really did it’s best with what it had at the time,” you looked up to him and smiled softly. He readjusted in his seat before allowing you to continue; trying to retain the thread of composure that he still had.

_Don’t tell me. Don’t say it can’t be done. But do. Do tell me it’s over._

“But I can’t heal what’s already healed,” you finally admitted.

Your words hung in the air. Both of you were unsure of what to do with them.

_Hopes breaking. Heart breaking. Stephen breaking._

You added one final note to tell your friend how much you see him.

“Even though it’s not the healing that you deserved,” you said. 

This was it for him. This was it. This was his last chance. A chance he never even got before it was stolen from him. _Again._

Without his consent, his defenses came tumbling down. He finally let his heart break; agonizingly, achingly break. Except he didn’t have to.

_It was already broken._

Finally, Stephen let himself feel the pain of years of disappointment. Not through rage or by lashing out at others. He felt the true disappointment and heartbreak that could only come when accepting his fate.

Disappointment in the doctors for failing his hands. Disappointment in himself for failing his career. Disappointment in his body for failing himself.

 _How could he swear an oath to_ **_do no harm_ ** _when he let his hubris do the worst harm to himself?_

He let himself down. He let the world down. And he felt, in some way, that it had let him down too. 

_Why, why, why did he let him do this to himself? How could he betray himself and all that he worked for?_

Stephen sobbed into his damaged hands; simultaneously cursing them and feeling welcomed in their brokenness. He covered his face because taking in yours would be too much to bear.

You sat with him in his brokenness. His agony ripped into your heart. You were his friend and you felt like you failed him; even though there was nothing you could do from the beginning. You wanted to step in. You wanted to fix it and take away his pain.

But that was just it.

It was _his_ pain. Not yours.

This was about him. Not you.

You couldn’t let the world rob him of anything else. So you let him feel the full gamut of human emotion even though it was hard for him.

Even though it was hard for you.

The most powerful support you could offer him was _being_ with him in it.

You learned that so well over the past eighteen months. You thought to everything that the two of you had gone through. All those visits to the Sanctum. Befriending his picky relic. Learning what was underneath his stoic mask.

Then how you used that trust against him. How you thought he’d never forgive you. But he surprised you and he did. He surprised himself when he let the brokenness of your trust lead to a new beginning.

_And that’s when it hit you._

Stephen’s breath started to return to its natural rhythm. He slowly regained his composure and looked up at you in remorse.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. _God, that was embarrassing._

You gently smiled. You weren’t sure how much you could offer him; if he’d really _get_ it. But you tried anyway, “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can be as human as you need to be.”

Your second sentence didn’t land with him quite fully. But he still knew that some small part of him needed to hear it. Even if he consciously couldn’t understand why.

“I have a possible solution,” you offered.

He stared back at you blankly; unwilling to get his hopes up again.

“I can’t heal your hands as they are because they’re already healed. However, if we break them down again, I might be able to repair the damage in better condition,” you said.

 _Break them down again. Break him down again. Could he really go through that_ _again_ _?_

“Would that even work?” he asked defensively.

“I’m not sure. As with everything unknown there are risks. I also don’t have any medical knowledge,” you said before he interrupted you.

“Of course you don’t,” he said; referring to his own intellectual prowess in a feeble attempt to bolster his confidence.

You smiled as you saw the smug side of your friend coming back to him. You continued, “But I’m willing to learn. I’m willing to learn everything that I need to know. I’m willing to learn exactly what needs to be broken _and how_ so that I can heal you. _Heal you better_. Even if it takes the rest of your life.”

He carefully thought about your proposition.

_Could he do this forever? Could he really commit to this, commit to himself, for the rest of his life? Could he commit to his own healing? Commit to the pain of breaking down over and over...with zero guarantee of a reward?_

He was lost and uncertain; a position that he _hated_ being in. But the only one he was given. Finally, he admitted a truth that he spent his whole life avoiding.

“I’m scared,” he said. 

“I know. I am too,” you responded; meeting him where he was at.

In all these years, Stephen searched for an easy fix. He wanted a solution that could effectively and efficiently eradicate the problem. The doctors couldn’t do it. Science failed him. And when he discovered the mystic arts, he couldn’t be selfish enough to _not_ use those powers to do good in the world.

_Especially when his ego already stole so much from him._

In his quest for salvation, he never thought that his body would also need something from himself. That _it_ would ask for something of _him_. His heart ached a bit as he judged himself for, once again, letting his hubris blind him.

He thought back to what the Ancient One told him: it wasn’t about him. While accurate at the time, _this_ was about him. Could he learn to let it be about him without getting consumed in his own selfishness?

_If he wants things to be different, he’d have to show up differently._

So he decided to stop this cycle of ego and avoidance. He decided that he was done blaming himself, judging himself, and asking more of the world than it could give to him.

More of what his body could give without him _offering_ something in return.

He looked up to you with solemn, scared eyes as he made the second biggest commitment of his life; second only to his commitment to protect the world.

“Let’s do it,” he agreed.

_Thanking himself. Thanking his body. Thanking you._

_For showing up for him._

Stephen was nervous that day. Undeniably nervous. 

But for the first time in his life, that was okay.


	2. Stephen's Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki learns something new about you during dinner at the Sanctum.

“Please tell me you didn’t actually tell her that,” you said with disbelief.

“It was a totally normal response given what we know,” Stephen defended.

“You know that she was flirting with you, right? The line ‘God took some extra time on you’ is _pretty_ obvious,” you tried to clarify.

“Yes, of course, I knew she was flirting with me,” he arrogantly retorted as he rolled his eyes. He could sense someone’s attraction to him a mile away. “And I wanted her to know that God is a _douchebag,”_ he said with a hint of extra sass.

You buried your head in your hands. “I’m never telling you guys anything supernatural again,” you muttered under your breath.

Steve let out an uncomfortable laugh. 

“Okay, guys. Let’s dig in before the food gets cold,” he tried to move forward off the topic of God.

Since moving into the Tower with Loki, you started making family dinner at the Sanctum a semi-regular thing. So far, Steve was the only one who hadn’t seen it yet. You tried to make a joke about how he would fit in with the rest of the relics. But you quickly ran out of ammunition when you realized that you were probably as old as at least half of them. 

This week, you all agreed to try a new Thai place that opened up down the street. Wong took meticulously tracked all the new restaurants in the area. Especially if they had honeydew boba.

You lifted your plate and tilted it towards Steve; a tempting pile of mushrooms awaiting him.

“Yes please,” he nodded to accept your offering.

As you started to offload your mushrooms onto Steve’s plate, Loki looked at you both in horror.

“What is happening? What’s this?” he asked in shock.

You and Steve shrugged innocently. Steve started to integrate his new food fortune into the rest of his noodles. You were about to take another bite of your own meal before Loki continued to press his cause.

“W-what just happened? Why did you give him your mushrooms?” he mirrored the exchange with his fork by pointing it between you and Steve.

“I don’t like mushrooms,” you said plainly.

“You. Don’t. Like. Mushrooms,” Loki emphasized every word to ensure he fully understood what you said.

You nodded casually in confirmation. Then glanced back down to resume eating.

“Since when?” he asked with an accusatory tone. His attitude tried to blame you for his lack of knowledge about your food preferences.

“Since always,” you said; slightly annoyed at this point. You really wanted to eat the rest of your fungus-free noodles.

“She doesn’t like mushrooms,” he muttered under in breath. He looked downwards as he tried to piece together this new knowledge.

“Nope,” Steve confirmed right before taking a giant bite of his mushroom abundant noodles.

“Not at all,” Stephen chimed in as he shook his head.

“Hates them,” Wong confirmed after a sip of boba.

Feeling on the outs about your aversion to fungus, Loki stabbed a mushroom on his plate with his fork. He would make it pay for the predicament he was in.

“Well,” he started to speak. He looked up to all of you to make sure he had your attention. “I don’t like beets,” he said with an equal mixture of disgust and sass.

“We know,” the four of you said in unison.

Loki grumbled to himself before begrudgingly eating the rest of this food. Fortunately for him, he had a very long time to learn everything he wanted to know about you.

A _very_ long time.


	3. Loki's Prize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You offer Loki a gift to thank him for his support all those months ago. He decides to say "you're welcome" in the way that only the God of Mischief can truly do justice for.

“Shouldn’t it be... _ bigger _ ?” Loki asked in slight disappointment.

“Mmmm. Shouldn’t that be  _ my _ line?” you responded. 

“Don’t even pretend you’re disappointed. No one can lie that well,” he said before giving you a confident grin. His eyes filled with self-satisfaction as he turned to look at you. “Not even me,” he finished.

He grazed your elbows with his hands and slowly inched closer to you. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes grew wider in anticipation. 

“But I am willing to watch you try,” he said raising his eyebrows and leaned closer to your face.

_ Oh, you were a goner. _

“T-t-that was the only size they had in stock,” you barely managed to choke out. You gestured to the generously sized trophy in an attempt to divert his attention back to your gift.

Sitting on your nightstand was a miniature version of Loki wearing his armor and helmet. His trophy-self regally held a scepter and dramatically looked off into the distance with an outstretched arm. Beside him was a tiny, weeping woman who was about to helplessly throw herself into his trophy-sized arms. 

_ Best Shoulder to Cry On _ _   
_ _ In all the Nine Realms _

Not wanting to dismiss your kind gift, Loki looked into your eyes and said, “It’s magnificent. Thank you.” 

You smiled and nodded your head; satisfied by your impeccable gift-giving skills.

“Now, may I return to dazzling your senses?” he asked with a grin.

“Oh, you  _ are _ a cocky one,” you chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Let me show you how much,” Loki purred.

_ Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Goner. _

You nodded confidently as he brushed his hands underneath your shirt. With your consent, he whisked you on the bed.

His trophy-self left smiling just a  _ bit _ more than it was a minute ago.


	4. Seduction 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night with Loki and Steve. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit that I haven't seen any of these movies. Also, I know Steve doesn't meet Hitler in the MCU. But took that from the comics.

You acclimated to stability surprisingly well. 

Moving in. Weekly dinners at the Sanctum. The calmness of domestic life. 

Was it a bit bizarre that fully grown adults with extraordinary powers lived together as roommates? Perhaps. 

But they were family and that’s what made the tower home.

You were excited to settle in for the evening for one of your favorite domestic endeavors: movie night. 

Last month, you picked Indiana Jones hoping Loki would appreciate the snake scene. But his review was, “Not enough stabbing.”

_ Not enough stabbing? Seriously? _

After that, you tried the Star Wars trilogy. At the end of Return of the Jedi, Loki threw a bucket of popcorn across the room. 

“He didn’t win?! I  _ demand _ my six hours back!” he yelled at the TV in anguish.

“What? Luke  _ did _ win,” you responded.

“No! The Dark Lord. He did all of that work, led an  _ army _ , and  _ still _ failed to take over the Universe. All because of an architectural design flaw,” Loki lamented.

You stared at him blankly; unsure of what to make of his taste in movies.

“But he was a  _ terrible _ father.  _ I _ could have defeated the resistance. Feeble mortals,” Loki grumbled before crossing his arms in defeat.

But tonight, you decided that you wouldn’t bother trying to appeal to him and picked Inglourious Basterds. You started to enjoy the work of Quentin Tarantino and decided to move through his movies on your own.

“I refuse to sit through another 2 hours of any of your cinematic selections,” Loki told you.

“This is what I want to watch tonight. Plus, it's by Quentin Tarantino. There will be plenty of violence for you to enjoy,” you said; popping the DVD into the tray.

Loki started muttering something under his breath when you suddenly cut him off.

“ _ Don’t _ even try cursing me,” you said. You knew that as much as he hated your taste in movies, Loki also enjoyed the simple domesticity of movie night. Granted, he would never admit that to anyone else. You sat on the couch then gestured to the space on the floor in front of you.

“C’mon. Watch this one with me and I’ll give you a scalp rub,” you proposed.

He tried to stare you down. But he broke into a soft smile and sat in front of you. You started kneading your fingers in his hair. Loki closed his eyes and gently leaned his head back. He let out a soft moan in appreciation of your peace offering.

“See? Not that bad,” you said.

“This better be riddled with murder,” he said without opening his eyes.

“Oh, I think you’ll be quite pleased,” you responded.

He turned his head to look up at you. A flash of mischief gleaned behind his eyes. 

“Now will I?” he said with a seductive grin.

“Don’t try using your wiles on me, Loki! I actually want to watch this one,” you said. “ _ But _ if you sit through this one with me  _ I’ll find a way to give you back all ten hours of your time. _ ”

Satisfied with your response, he continued to let you rub his scalp and play with his hair. 

When the movie was almost over, Steve walked by.

“Hey, what are you guys watching?” he asked.

“Inglourious Basterds. It takes place in World War Two,” you said; turning back to look at him.

Steve raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“You can join us if you’d like,” you offered.

Steve nodded and sat down next to you. You readjusted in your seat to make room for him. Loki was still on the floor in front of you with his head resting on your knee.

Throughout the rest of the movie, you caught a few scoffs from Steve. You looked at him to explain. But every time he shook his head and waved a hand at you to dismiss your curiosity.

When the movie finished, you turned to look at Steve and asked him, “Okay, what did you think?”

Before Steve could respond, Loki interjected. 

“This was your best selection yet. I like to watch the world  _ burn _ ,” he said.

You chuckled at his response before turning to the intended recipient of your attention.

“Oh gosh. Everything was  _ so _ wrong. I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times and that was...not at all accurate,” Steve laughed. He raised his hands in a shrug, “But it was still entertaining enough.”

“Yes, I guess that’s the point,” you smiled.

Steve started telling you about his time in Germany. He started to dissect a few of the differences in the movie; mainly focusing on the character differences between movie Hitler and real Hitler.

In a sly attempt to win back your attention, Loki started gently running his hand up and down your calf. He traced your skin with his fingers in small circular motions; making sure you didn’t forget your offer to him.

Your heart started to race and your eyes darted down to him. Trying to take Steve into consideration, you tried to whisper lowly, “Not right now.”

Unyielding, Loki continued to grace his beautiful, slender hands along your leg. 

_ His beautiful, slender hands. Damn him. _

“Oh, you know what I want to do to you,” he whispered lowly.

Steve stopped talking to glance down at Loki. 

“You know that I can hear you,” he said. Immediately regretting the attention he put on the situation in front of him, he started blushing beet red.

“I’m happy your age hasn’t damaged your hearing,” Loki challenged him. “Now you can hear me say,” he turned to you before continuing, “how much I want to take these clothes and -”

“Throw them in the wash because it’s laundry day!” Steve nervously shouted. Knowing where this was going, he stood up awkwardly and said, “I should go.”

Loki happily chuckled at the Captain’s expense as Steve dashed from the room. You smiled at your mischievous partner and asked, “Did you really have to torment him like that?”

_ Full well knowing the answer. _

“It’s not my fault the Captain isn’t versed in Seduction 101. I’d teach him. But it would be futile. He’s at a serious disadvantage simply because -,” Loki looked you dead in the eyes with a devilish smile.

“- he’s not me.”

_ Oh my God of Mischief. Steve would never live this down. And neither would you. _

“Now, about those ten hours?” Loki pressed forward with his cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki went through incredible personal growth and transformation in The Alchemist's Daughter. I'm still brewing on a one-shot that will do him justice. But until then, I'm enjoying writing him as the devilish little shit that he can be.
> 
> Also, my friend said Loki’s line about “being at a serious disadvantage” in a joke about him teaching Hotness 101. You can read her hilarious take on that line right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22756105


	5. I'm Not Your Healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki isn't pleased with how Stephen treats your generosity. So you teach him the true meaning of "healer."

“I love him. But that man will be the death of me,” you lamented.

 _The ego. The superiority. The mental anguish._

You weren’t going to back out on your word. But sometimes it was tempting. He could push your buttons in all the right ways. Especially now that he was getting even more comfortable having you around.

“What has he done this time?” Loki asked.

“He started making quizzes for me. Literally quizzes on paper that I have to complete and pass,” you threw yourself on to the bed. 

Truthfully, you were happy that Stephen took your medical studies so seriously. With so much on the line, neither of you wanted to miss anything. His diligent attention to detail was a wonderful asset to your studies. 

_A painful, wonderful asset._

“Next week, he wants to make sure that I know all the bones in the human hand. And I miss two points for every misspelling,” you commented.

“You are the one helping him. Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” Loki asked you lovingly.

You chucked. As much as Stephen was a strict teacher, you knew he was enjoying his new role. Saving the world from mystic threats could stimulate him intellectually only _so much_. You were willing to put up with his ego for the sake of progress.

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m happy for him. I want him to feel in control. He loves putting his medical knowledge to good use,” you said.

“Hm. I still don’t like you bending to his will,” Loki complained.

You weren’t unfamiliar with giving too much. It was a pattern of your past; one that you didn’t want to continue. Especially in these relationships where you finally felt at home.

“If he pushes too much, I’ll let him know. I’ve got boundaries,” you assured your concerned partner. Although, you weren't totally sure if you were convincing him or yourself.

Loki wrinkled his brow. He trusted you to advocate for what you need. But he still felt uneasy about how the doctor treated your help. He looked at you with soft eyes. Placing a hand on top of yours, he said, “I hate to see him take your generosity for granted.”

You lovingly set a hand on his cheek in appreciation. 

“Thank you for your concern. You always look out for me,” you said with a smile.

“Don’t diminish the work you do by making this about me. You can’t hide. I know you all too well,” he said. “You are the most gifted healer in the Universe. You heal him, you healed me, and even yourself from death itself. Please give yourself the reverence you deserve.”

He wasn't entirely wrong. Both of you grew exponentially since you first met: in power, heart, and as partners. It was a blessing because you could see through each other’s masks. But the more he became aware of his own avoidant behaviors, the easier it was for him to call out yours.

Sometimes, you wished that you could hide in the simplicity of ignorance. While you knew it was for your own good, it felt like his awareness was being used against you.

“Loki, I’ve only healed you from minor injuries and a few determined bite marks. I hardly classify that as greatness,” you dismissed the gravity of his statement. 

“I’m not talking about _those_ wounds,” he said.

Your eyes widened. You knew exactly what he was talking about.

“You saved me from a place that I never thought I could come back from. You showed me how I used cruelty and trickery to hide my pain. It was something I practiced for so long, I couldn’t even recognize I was doing it anymore. It was your gift that illuminated me to my greatest illusion. One that even I couldn’t see. You healed me. Don’t shroud your power in humility,” Loki confessed to you.

You furrowed your brow in thought. You paused to take in everything that he said to you. _How much of his growth could you truly take credit for?_ After a moment, you looked back to him and said, “But, my love, that wasn’t all _me._ ”

He opened his mouth to interrupt. Probably to tell you once again to stop dismissing your abilities. 

But you continued, “I’m not the one who healed you. _You did._ I helped you create the space for you to be exactly who you are: in greatness and in heartbreak. I supported you in meeting your pain without using your tricks - the outward and inward ones - as crutches. But _that power_ is all yours. You are your own greatest self healer.”

Loki wrinkled his nose and looked down. He tried to understand what you were saying. But it was uncomfortable for him to consider the fact that he was, indeed, his own savior.

“You know, in many ways, we’re mirrors for each other. Just like I need to accept the gift that my powers are, you need to accept the gift that _you_ are. Not just to me and those you love, but to yourself,” you continued. You smiled and gently lifted his chin so you could look him in the eyes again. “And fortunately for us, we have a very long time to practice that,” you finished.

Loki let out a relieved sigh. For all his intellectual prowess and many years across many planets, he still had a lot to learn. His heart filled with gratitude that he had the privilege of growing in life (and sometimes in death) with you. Best of all, he knew you felt the same.

Neither of you needed to hide anymore.

“I’ll tell Stephen he can quiz me. But with flashcards only. Docking my spelling feels like overkill,” you offered.

“I think that’s a fine compromise,” Loki said. He was pleased that you could stop wearing your own mask of sacrificing your joy to make others happy.

Pulling you into his arms, he placed a gentle kiss on your head. You smiled as your heart dug new caverns of devotion and gratitude. But this time, they instantly filled with love: from you and from him. 

You thought about your mother and quietly thanked her for bringing the two of you together; a ritual that you were doing more and more these days.

What you didn’t know, but hoped, was that she was smiling back saying, “You are welcome, my child. You deserve all the love this Universe has to give you... _and more_.”

What a beautiful, complicated life you get to live.

  
  



End file.
